


Birthright

by justanothermaniac



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Incest, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Sibling Incest, Twincest, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-14 15:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21018065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothermaniac/pseuds/justanothermaniac
Summary: The Valeskas are not a family. They are a disease.





	Birthright

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally no excuse for this.

It's a sight to behold, that's for sure.

Jeremiah's cheeks are flushed and wet from an endless flow of tears. His face is pressed into the dirt beneath him, clinging to his deliciously smooth skin. Jerome can almost feel it under his fingertips, radiating heat as he digs his nails into Jeremiah's jaw, forcing his lips apart before diving in to taste him, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

He leans forward a little more, peeking around where he's pressed against the trailer as far as possible without being spotted. He tries to keep the movement of his hand slow enough to last. He's not going to come until the beautifully grotesque display is over. He's going to savor this.

He shudders when Jeremiah's head is yanked back by the calloused hand curled in his hair, making him cry out, a broken little sound that's barely even there.

"I can't _hear_ ya, kid."

Their uncle's voice is raspy, but thick with lust and as much as Jerome loathes everything about the man that's been his tormentor for the last fifteen years, there's something about him making Jeremiah's body shake with every thrust that intrigues Jerome. It's like watching the petals of a flower getting plucked. Pure, innocent beauty torn down by a ruthless, hungry beast.

Jeremiah is scratching at the trampled grass beneath him, dirt certainly collecting under his fingernails. He's usually such a clean freak. Jerome curses under his breath, drops of sweat forming on his temple.

Uncle Zack looks like he's in heaven. His eyes are closed, deep moans spilling from his parted lips. Parts of his face have taken on an angry red color and as filthy and disgusting as his appearance is, the overall picture is one of the prettiest things Jerome has ever seen. Jeremiah looks so helpless, he reminds Jerome of a frightened kitten, crushed beneath the dirty paws of a rabid wolf.

He bites back a moan and forces himself to still his movement and it's _frustrating_ but he _needs_ to last, he needs this to be _worth it. _

Zack throws his head back with a groan. "Shoulda done this years ago", he grits out and Jerome can see him dig his nails in the flesh of Jeremiah's waist, still gripping his hair tightly with his other hand. Jerome's skin tingles and heat pools in his stomach. He wishes he could be closer, he wishes _he_ would be the one forcing Jeremiah's head back, relishing the expression of complete and utter agony on his face.

_Later,_ he tells himself, _he'll be yours again later. Focus. _

"You're so much tighter than your mom", Zack continues and _fuck,_ despite Jerome having already known, _Jeremiah_ didn't and the confession makes his eyes snap open, face contorted in absolute horror. Jerome can't help it, he quickens the pace of his hand, biting back a moan. _Gorgeous, _he thinks,_ so fucking gorgeous._

Zack has let go of Jeremiah's hair and is now gripping both of his hips, pounding into him with full force. Jeremiah muffles a scream by biting into his own hand and Jerome can't _take it._

Zack can't either. "Fuck, _yeah -"_

Jerome closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the aluminum wall as he comes all over his hand. He slumps, his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. The cold of the night hits him full force and he shivers, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips nonetheless.

Uncle Zack's gruff laugh awakens him from his post-orgasmic daze. "Guess we found somethin' you're good for, eh, nephew?"

Oh, that's _perfect._ Jerome's fingers are itching for his brother, even though he doesn't respond, Jerome knows what a miserable mess he must be right now. _Fucking perfect. _

"Get cleaned up. Wouldn't want anyone to find ya like this, huh?"

Uncle Zack's laughter slowly fades away as he leaves. Jerome wants to jump to his feet and sprint towards Jeremiah, but he knows better. He tucks himself back in his pants, wipes his hand on the grass sporadically and takes several deep breaths. He needs to play this just right. It's essential.

With Uncle Zack gone, and Jerome's own breathing returning back to normal, he's able to make out a sweet symphony of choked sobs. His cock twitches again.

Jerome slowly gets to his feet. He feels wobbly but it'll have to do. He rounds the corner, and his heart seems to skip several beats.

Jeremiah is a wreck. He's curled into a tight ball, shaking, face hidden behind his arms. His pants are still pulled down to his ankles and despite Jerome not being able to see, he knows that Jeremiah's backside must be dripping with Uncle Zack's come. Maybe even blood. 

He licks his lips and starts walking closer. "Would ya look at that", he says in a raspy tone, coming to a halt about two steps away from his cowering twin.

The sound of Jerome's voice makes Jeremiah flinch. It's a reflex, a natural defense mechanism Jeremiah has developed over the years. It's not like he had a choice.

But to Jerome's absolute delight, he lifts his face from his hands and Jerome better remember this sight until the day he dies.

Jeremiah looks like he's been to hell and back, his face drained of any color except for his swollen, reddened eyes. Dirt sticks to the tear stains on his cheeks. It's a pitiful picture.

Jerome could look at him forever. "Should've stayed at the trailer like I told ya to." He says it nonchalantly, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth, knowing fully well how cruel it is. It makes his chest feel warm.

Jeremiah sobs at that, a sound that sends a jolt of pleasure through Jerome's body. "Jero-ome..!"

Jeremiah tries to lift a hand, to reach out for Jerome. He holds his breath. "Please, _please..!", _Jeremiah begs and Jerome's heart starts to melt.

He drops to his knees, still wearing the smirk as he scoops Jeremiah up and pulls him into his lap. "Shhh."

Jeremiah sinks into him, trembling fingers digging into the front of his shirt. He cries against Jerome's neck, his hot tears like honey as they trickle down Jerome's skin.

Jerome holds him close, nuzzling a kiss to his sweaty forehead, his stomach doing a flip once he realizes that Jeremiah's dick is half-hard. _This keeps getting better and better._ "Poor baby..."

He wraps his hand around Jeremiah's cock. His breath hitches when Jerome starts massaging him to full hardness. "Let big brother make it better."

Jeremiah whines, pressing closer to him, torn between equal needs for comfort and release. Jerome holds him close with his other arm, cooing in his ear: "There we go. Relax, I'm here now. I've got'cha."

He feels Jeremiah tense up and picks up his pace, grazing his thumb over the tip of his dick with every upward-stroke. Jeremiah whimpers, unconsciously tugging at Jerome's shirt and Jerome whispers right into his ear: "That's it, Miah. Cum for me."

Jeremiah does. He cries out, weakly bucking his hips, curling into himself again immediately, shaking even harder than before. Jerome licks his brother's come of his fingers, shivering with delight before wrapping his arms around him again. Warm. Comforting. Safe.

He starts grinning. "Y'know, this wouldn't have happened if you'd just _listen_ to me."

Jeremiah tenses up. Jerome sighs in feigned disappointment. "Almost makes me think ya _wanted_ this to happen..."

Jeremiah makes a sound that is so broken and sad that Jerome has to use every ounce of his self-control not to burst into a fit of triumphant laughter. 

Jeremiah is shaking his head frantically, his words vibrant against Jerome's neck: "Nononononono -!" 

Perfect. _Perfect._

Jerome threads his fingers through Jeremiah's hair. "Shhh, it's okay now, baby brother", he whispers, lips against Jeremiah's forehead. "You're with me. You're safe here."

Jeremiah chokes on a sob and Jerome giggles, his hold tightening, nails digging into Jeremiah's scalp. Jeremiah isn't safe. He's never safe. Because no one enjoys hurting Jeremiah as much as Jerome does. 

"You're gonna do as I say now. Aren't you, Miah?", he coos, flicking his tongue out to graze it over Jeremiah's earlobe. "You're not gonna behave like a cheap little _slut_ again, right?"

Jeremiah flinches once more, but he nods, unable to speak even if he wanted to. Jerome lets it slide, just this once. He owes Jeremiah that much. After all, he's been blessed with witnessing the most beautiful destruction of innocence he could've ever imagined. "No, of course you're not. You don't wanna be like _Lila,_ do ya?"

Its the final blow. Jeremiah weeps and Jerome laughs, hugging him as tight as humanly possible, forcing the broken pieces to hold together. It's for Jerome to decide when and _if_ they'll ever get to collapse. 

Jeremiah has been like Lila since the very first time he let Jerome hold him down. Tear him apart. Make him whole.

The Valeskas are not a family.

The Valeskas are a disease that infests not only your inner organs, but your mind and soul until you start decaying from the inside out. Zack and Lila are rotten. Jerome and Jeremiah are rotten.

Being a Valeska is a curse you cannot escape from. But with Jeremiah clinging to him, his sweet tears stilling Jerome's ferocious hunger for his baby brother's delicious despair, their battered souls forever bound, Jerome figures, why on earth would you _want_ to? 


End file.
